Page 106 of J R


  —No but wait they, what happened where are they . . .

  —Yes I was about to say, I was finally able to learn they seem to have somehow managed to return to that town in Indiana where they’ve entered a nursing home. I tried to call them there earlier in fact, but was told they’d just been temporarily evacuated when a small fire broke out in the upper story and I do owe you an apology Mister Bast. That was indeed your house we saw that night you became so understandably distraught. It now appears that when the property was condemned, the advertisement for the auction of the house itself appeared only in a newspaper in Poughkeepsie, when the auction was held in Albany by the State Department of Public Works the only bid submitted came from a Mister Cibo who heads the Catania Paving Company I believe it’s called. On further inquiry his one dollar bid appears to have been submitted on behalf of a Father Haight with the understanding of a substantial fee for moving it down next to the church where we saw it that night, to serve as a teen center for . . .

  —But no how could . . .

  —I know it’s not precisely what your aunts might have wished Mister Bast but you, they may be pleased to know it’s been preserved . . .

  —No but a dollar! how could . . .

  —It does seem rather inequitable yes I agree, however in such cases the state feels it comes off well with any bid over a penny since the purchaser is obliged to remove the structure from the condemned property saving the state the costs of demolition, as occurred with the barn studio building there to the rear of the property where, oh Mrs, Mrs Angel come in I’m sorry, I didn’t see you standing there please come in and, and sit down yes Mister Bast and I were just discussing . . .

  —Hello Edward. I heard what you were discussing Mister Coen, please go on.

  —There’s really no more to it aside from the, the somewhat ironic circumstances of my discovery. The details just came to light when a woman of some means whose philanthropies include the preservation of the studios of prominent American artists learned inadvertently that the Bast property was razed to make way for a Cultural Center project of which she is also a sponsor, as a trustee of the Philharmonic her abrupt interest in James Bast seems to have been provoked by their decision to plead for his return from what I see referred to as his self-imposed exile as the only conductor capable of rescuing them from the severe difficulties into which they have recently . . .

  —Excuse me Mister Coen, where shall I put all this music Mister Bast. Mister Bast . . .?

  —What.

  —All this music you wrote here, where shall I . . .

  —Just, just throw it away it’s, throw it away.

  —But the way you worked on it, I’d hate to just throw it away after how hard you . . .

  —I said throw it, here! give it to me I’ll throw it away! it’s, it’s . . .

  —But you worked so hard remember how proud Mister Dune . . .

  —Look he didn’t even, I told him this morning I don’t have to anymore I don’t have to try to write music . . . he had a foot up jamming the pages into the wastebasket—I never had to, it was just something I’d never questioned before I thought it was all I was here for and he, everybody thought that they thought I was doing something worth doing he did too but he, nothing’s worth doing he told me nothing’s worth doing till you’ve done it and then it was worth doing even if it wasn’t because that’s all you . . .

  —Mister Bast please, you . . .

  —There’s no please no there’s no please left! the, the damage I’ve caused because they all thought what I tried to do was worth doing and I haven’t even done it . . .! he was down picking up pages his foot had brought out of the basket with it, jamming them back in with his fist—I, I should have just done what you wanted me to in the first place Mister Coen that, signed that waiver or whatever it is for my claim to half the estate and just let everything . . .

  —No but Mister Bast you, I’m afraid you mistake the purpose of a waiver it was simply, at this point the question is really irrelevant of course but if you do now intend to claim . . .

  —Excuse me is, Mrs Angel . . .?

  —Yes I, I am doctor what . . .

  —It’s your husband in intensive care? Yes, I have a . . .

  —But what is it what’s happened!

  —No no please sit down no he’s, his condition is unchanged, I know this is an extremely difficult time for you Mrs Angel but we have a request which I hope you will be able to consider without . . .

  —Well what is it!

  —Yes you see the, of course you’re aware that in spite of our efforts the possibility of your husband’s failing to survive is a very real one it, it could happen very abruptly we have really no way of knowing. Aside from this traumatic injury however his health appears to have been, to be excellent there’s no indication of damage sustained by any of his internal organs and . . .

  —You mean he might, that you might be able to . . .

  —No no I’m afraid I, you see Mrs Angel in the transplant of a vital organ the decision must be carried out as rapidly as possible following the expiration of the, the donor and you see as his wife we would need your prior authorization for the immediate remov . . .

  —No.

  —If I could add that another patient has just been taken to the operating room whose survival may depend . . .

  —No! leave me alone no!

  —Doctor I, as their attorney you might clarify matters for me if we stepped into the hall . . .

  —Stella . . .

  —I said leave me alone! Haven’t you done enough Edward didn’t you just say you’d done enough! You despised him you . . .

  —I! I didn’t even, no that night in the barn that night I can still hear his steps on the broken glass down there in the dark you didn’t even move when he, everything smashed breaking in when I found you up there and you . . .

  —You think, I did? that I broke in and smashed . . .

  —Dishes that’s not what I said I didn’t say dishes! What difference are, are dishes no you broke in Stella you broke in and destroyed every, up there I can still see you those flashes of lightning I can still see you on the bed up there I can still see your throat your voice I can still hear it don’t, you don’t have to seduce me I can still feel your hand when you . . .

  —Destroyed of course I did! You didn’t think I, that I wanted you did you? You don’t think I, that day up on the mountain that I didn’t know you were watching me? that you’d followed me up the stream till I took off my bathing suit and were in the bushes there watching me? That this whole absurd, her bosom shaken by a sudden storm of sighs this whole frightened romantic nightmare you’d put me into all of it, all of it! that, that barn out there where these ideas these fantasies these, these obsessions could hide untouched unfinished till you opened the door on them again, on this fear you haven’t inherited James’ talent so you’ll settle for money that’s where it belongs all of it, with your music in the trashbasket all of it!

  —No you, you are aren’t you Stella you’re, he said you were yes you’re a witch aren’t you you’re . . .

  —Who did who!

  —Your throat yes that scar I can still taste it in the dark those steps crushing glass you destroyed him you’ve tried to destroy . . .

  —It was Jack wasn’t it, it was Jack . . .

  —Who Jack who it didn’t have to be Jack you destroyed him too yes, you . . .

  —Where is he!

  —He’s I don’t know where he is he’s, that place I’ve been working in uptown he’s been trying to work up there no he didn’t have to tell me no, no I could have told him since you were a child I’ve always heard it, what you could destroy I’ve always heard them talk about you that you made things up you spread stories because you hated her didn’t you, one summer you were still a child one summer in Tannersville you hated my mother for what she’d done to your father didn’t you! For leaving him to, when she left him for . . .

  —Yours yes for yours! When she l
eft my father and wanted James to marry her and he wouldn’t because he was afraid for his work, even when you were born and she just wanted him to try and he wouldn’t he was afraid for anything to come between him and his work when all of it happened and then they blamed me they all blamed me! That horrible woman that fair that summer in Tannersville that tent, I went in to have my fortune told it was almost dark inside she had scarves and earrings so much makeup and costume jewelry and I thought she was a real gypsy I was so excited, she told me some stupid flattering things she had a crystal ball it was just a fishbowl upside down looking into it and she said, she said you’re really a very unhappy little girl aren’t you and I started to talk, I didn’t know what I was telling her I didn’t even know she was asking me questions, my father and yours and Nellie what I’d seen what I’d heard everything I didn’t even know I’d told her when it was over, when she said cross my palm with silver and I paid her the ten cents I saw her finger, the tip of one finger missing and I knew who she was I didn’t even know why I was frightened, I ran out in the sun and fell down and your father found me behind the car being sick he took me back, they didn’t know what had happened they never knew but they blamed me all of them, all of them and I never trusted any of them again!

  —But I don’t, I don’t know what you . . .

  —Because she took her own life! Nellie your mother she took her own life! When he wouldn’t marry her, when James wouldn’t marry her and she wrote a will she made him your guardian and he told Aunt Julia, he told them both afterwards he’d married her secretly so the scandal wouldn’t hurt my father, now can you . . .

  —Oh excuse me, Mrs Angel? I’ve talked with the doctor I think everything should, are you all right?

  —Yes I’m all right! I, I’d like a glass of water.

  —Of course yes let me, here, here you do look quite . . .

  —Thank you. Now what is it you want to discuss Mister Coen.

  —Yes well of course, of course this matter of the estate Mrs Angel but you’ve both been under severe strain and these are hardly ideal circumstances to discuss it in fact the nurses’ supervisor just told me this room may be required momentarily but I did at least want to counsel you both, pending resolution of your own differences, that for the moment an appearance of family solidarity should be maintained in the face of the impending court decision in this old JMI suit, since I believe whoever emerges with controlling interest in General Roll must expect a rather fierce confrontation from them on appeal. In fact this was the reason for my attempt to reach your aunts directly as I mentioned earlier, having just learned that their attorney Mister Lemp has been dead for almost sixteen years I’m trying to help resolve their other affairs here and hope to recover six or seven cents on the dollar for them in the liquidation of their broker whose . . .

  —Wait who Mis, Mister Crawley? What do you mean liquid . . .

  —His firm yes, straight liquidating bankruptcy, as I think I’ve already told you your aunts’ account was severely diminished when he began to buy and sell as rapidly as possible simply to generate as many commissions as he . . .

  —But he owes me, he still owes me four hundred dollars he said he’d send the check what if, would they take his bank account?

  —I can’t say Mister Bast, perhaps if it were a personal account you might still, excuse me. Nurse . . .?

  —Joe bring in a chair to take Mister Bast down to the front door, you signed everything for him didn’t you Mister Coen I have to hurry you out, we need this room immediately and Joe? Hurry right back it has to be scrubbed everything including the Venetian blinds, if she recovers we’ll probably have to paint it too.

  —Joe wait, wait that wastebasket . . .

  —Please Mister Bast we’re in a hurry . . .

  —So am I! No just those papers on the top . . .

  —But what . . .

  —Because it’s all I’ve got! Look I don’t need a chair I have to get uptown to see if that check’s there, I can’t wait for . . .

  —I’m sorry Mister Bast it’s a hospital regulation and Joe, move that chair out she hates green and you’ll have to change the curtains, she’s one of the trustees we had her in once just for a tubal insufflation and practically had to rebuild the whole wing.

  —Mrs Angel here let me get your coat, I hope one of you will be in touch with me as soon as you’ve been able to discuss Mister Bast’s position in this entire . . .

  —There’s nothing left to discuss! There’s nothing left is there? Stella? No, no I’ve failed enough at other people’s things I’ve done enough other people’s damage from now on I’m just going to do my own, from now on I’m going to fail at my own here those papers wait, give me those papers . . .

  —And Joe tell the kitchen she’ll bring her own silver and have her food brought in from outside, her maid will bring her jewelry and makeup and send in her hairdresser just see what color curtains we have, she’ll send her maid out to Saks for a negligee and the color . . .

  —You’re finally leaving us Mister Bast, you’ll miss our Christmas tree. Come back and see us . . .

  —Yes well thank you for, for everything . . . the wheels spun down the corridor, swerved for the ponderous approach of a bed mounting an inert figure massed under sheets and veered through the bull’s eye doors for the lull of the elevator, the swing of glass doors.—Thank you Mister Coen goodbye and, Stella goodb . . .

  —I’m coming with you.

  —Why what for! we don’t . . .

  —For Jack. That’s where you’re going isn’t it?

  —Yes but, all right I’m going up here for the bus if you . . .

  —A bus don’t be silly, Mister Coen could you call us that cab please. You can reach me at home when anything develops.

  —Of course yes Mrs Angel any change in your husband’s con . . .

  —I don’t think we need wait for that do we? If my acting for him presents any problem, I’m sure under the circumstances you can draw up papers enabling me to do so?

  —Why, why yes if you . . .

  —And incidentally yes there’s no need to bother my aunts any further is there, surely my husband’s interest in the company together with my father’s estate is sufficient majority for any decisions I come to? this old lawsuit you mentioned for instance, I want the judgment on it the moment you learn it so we can act appropriately without any delay in fact, Mister Coen, on the chance it goes against General Roll you might begin to get material together for an appeal I don’t intend to see it lost, I think that’s all clear?

  —Why, why yes Mrs Angel of course yes, yes here let me get the door . . .

  —And thank you again you’ve been terribly helpful. Driver? we’re going uptown, it’s on Ninety-sixth Street isn’t it Edward?

  —Yes it’s, it’s between Second and Third yes, Ninety-sixth between Second and Third driver . . . he squared the pages loose against him at the lurch of the cab, knees tight holding him forward to the edge of the seat looking out as though aware that his back, the back of his head was being looked at, looking down as abruptly as the knee crossed under his elbow, crossing his own.

  —Is there anything you can do about those trousers Edward, we could certainly stop and get you something and a coat, you haven’t even a coat . . .

  —No! I’m, I’m fine . . . he thrust the pages away pulling, tucking at his waist, paired his knees again coming forward—did you know that he, my father did you know he was coming back?

  —I suggested it to them.

  —Oh . . . he sat hunched to the window there staring at the massive side of a truck where five dwarfs heralding None Of Us Grew But The Business moved ahead, fell back for a hatless woman blowing her nose, U S Mail, Dumor Delivery Service, a brown dog muzzling glass.

  —I didn’t hear you.

  —Nothing I didn’t say anything . . .! a bus bullied passage, fell away for Department of Correction, the woman wadding her handkerchief now, Ace Photo Service, Emergency—this next corner . . . Nat
ional Casket Co, XL Cab—driver . . .?

  —You still don’t understand do you! You think he, that he knew what would happen? the courage it took for him to go on facing the . . .

  —Driver! it’s, it’s up behind that ambulance . . .

  —Where’s all the ashcans out front?

  —That’s it yes . . . he brought the papers close coming forward for the door—right here, yes . . . he was out, holding the cab’s door open.—You’d better wait here till I see what’s . . .

  —I’d intended to.

  —Yes well if he’s, if Mister Gibbs is up there what shall I tell him you want.

  —Nothing. Nothing! no you won’t understand will you! that your own selfish suffering’s easier than facing suffering you’ve caused and can never call back Edward don’t you think I, Edward? Well you will . . .!

  He caught balance as the door was pulled from him in his turn between the burned car hulk and the ambulance backed open at the curb, clattered through doors to linoleum mounting two steps at a time—sorry . . .! he backed down a step, two, turned to wait at the foot as whites took shape descending, filling the narrow stairs.

  —Want to hold that door for us there? That’s it, little wider can you get it any wider?

  —It’s no, no this is as far as . . .

  —Wait just lower your end a little Jim, should have used the window sling on this one.

  —Only four stories of rope how could we.

  —Mister?

  —That’s it a little harder now, that’s it . . .

  —Mister could I ride to the hospital with you Mister?

  —Not going to no hospital, that’s it, there. Got it now?

  —But my vife Mister, I could ride with her where you’re going?

  The doors clattered. He held the cold metal of the newel and then climbed hand on the rail a step at a time to the top and the turn for the end of the hall, where the door stood leaning free against the wall there.—Hello? he knocked on it—is, oh Mister Eigen hello is Mis . . .